by Elise Noble
Asher seemed genuine in his warning. I didn’t understand him. One moment he was a prick, and the next, he was…sort of nice.
“Thanks. Are you going running instead?”
“No.”
“But you like running, right?”
“It’s okay.”
“Just ‘okay’? Why did you cheat on Saturday and then get up early to run on Sunday?”
“Because one time when I got around the course too fast, they tried to put me on a team. And I’m not representing those assholes.” He jerked his head east, in the direction of the Rosenbergs’ house. “So I told them I cheated when I got my best times. And now I have to keep up the pretence.”
Interesting logic.
“And the swimming?”
“I’ll swim on my own later. Unless you want to join me?”
“Er, no.”
Asher somehow managed to smirk and laugh at the same time. “Take care of yourself, Chem Girl.”
Of course, I still had Sofia with me when I headed for the pool. And she was still acting like a psycho.
“So, Freddie Thornberg, huh? I’ve got his bio here. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree with that one—his daddy got accused of rape by his former secretary. The charges went away, though. Guess there was a pay-off.”
“Is it too late to switch to yoga?” I muttered.
“Don’t worry; you’re trained for this. If he gets handsy, grab his balls and twist. Or we can get creative. Pools are fun—they use chlorine-based disinfectant to destroy pathogens and acid to control pH. Mix the two, and voila! Chlorine gas. If you do it the right way, the pulmonary oedema looks like a total accident.”
I had a horrible feeling she was speaking from experience, and I really didn’t want to hear it.
“Is this earpiece waterproof?” I whispered.
“Uh, no. I don’t think so. I’ll check with Nate.”
“Shame. Guess I’d better take it out then.”
Peace at last. Thank goodness.
Of course, all good things come to an end, and Emmy was waiting for me when I plugged myself back in. Vanessa was nowhere to be seen, and I made sure to close the bedroom door before I started talking.
“Don’t bullshit me,” Emmy said. “You knew that earpiece wasn’t waterproof when you picked swimming.”
“If you’d spent the entire day with Sofia explaining a thousand ways to kill people, you’d have done the same.”
“She’s dedicated.”
“She’s insane. And she wouldn’t shut up.”
“There’s a possibility she might have forgotten to take her meds this morning,” Emmy conceded.
“Next time, give me Ryder if I can’t have Rune. At least he’s quiet.”
“I’ll see what I can do. But first, an update. We’ve hit a slight snag with the backup plan.”
My stomach dropped.
“What snag?”
“Marshall got a letter from the Master. Seems he doesn’t believe we managed to steal Spirit, so we won’t be able to catch one of his people in the act at a handover. Xav’s copy was too damn good.”
“So what happens next?”
“If Spirit was our only connection to the School of Shadows, perhaps we’d alert the authorities to the theft. But thanks to you, we don’t need to do that.”
“Which means…?”
“Which means all the eggs are in your basket at the moment.”
Great. No pressure. Just me, a four-hundred-acre campus, and a stolen painting to find.
“Sky?”
“I’m here.”
“You’re doing fine. We don’t need to solve this tomorrow. Slow and steady wins the game, so keep mapping out the campus, carry on listening, and we’ll narrow down the areas where a painting could be hidden. We put a tracker on Ezra’s car while he was in town this afternoon.”
“What about Saul’s?”
“We’re working on it. He doesn’t seem to go out much.”
I lay on the bed and closed my eyes. “A den of thieves, and I’m stuck right in the middle of it.”
“Look on the bright side—Shadow Falls is meant to be pretty in the autumn.”
CHAPTER 24 - SKY
“WHO WERE YOU talking to?”
My head snapped around, and I found Vanessa standing in the bedroom doorway. Sometimes, she was sneakier than Emmy, and it seemed the maintenance team had oiled every hinge in the place. Tuesday morning was off to a great start.
Had Vanessa heard my words? Or just my voice? Rune had gone silent in my ear.
“Uh, nobody.”
“I definitely heard you speaking.”
Think, Sky. Think!
“It’s a visualisation technique. If I tell myself what I want to achieve, it gets me closer to my goals.”
Vanessa seemed dubious, and I couldn’t blame her. Visualisation technique? Was that even a thing?
“My therapist told me to do it.”
“You have a therapist?”
“Doesn’t everybody? Mine’s in England, so I have to do phone consults at the moment, and I guess I should find a new one, but… Anyhow, at first I tried just thinking about my goals, but that didn’t keep me accountable. So now I say them out loud, like a pep talk.” I forced a giggle. “Half the time, I forget I’m even doing it.”
“And it really works?”
“Yup. You should try it. It works best if you start in front of a mirror, but once you get used to it, you can do it anywhere.”
Might as well cover myself for any future slip-ups.
Vanessa stepped fully inside the room and closed the door. “I’m not sure it would work for me. I’m just not that lucky.”
“We make our own luck, and how will you know unless you try it?” I put my hands on her shoulders and steered her over to the mirror on the wall. “What’s your goal for today? Tell yourself.”
Fuck, I felt like such a fraud. But when the alternative was admitting I was an undercover investigator, the guilt was a small price to pay.
“Okay.” Vanessa gave a nervous giggle. “Today, I want to hit every high note in ‘Dove Sono.’”
“In what?”
“It’s a Mozart aria from The Marriage of Figaro. We have auditions this morning. The winner gets to represent Shadow Falls Academy at an interscholastic singing competition in Florida, all expenses paid.”
“Right. Well, don’t say you want to hit the high notes. Say you’re going to hit them.”
Vanessa grinned at me, the first genuine smile I’d got from her. Maybe this visualisation mumbo jumbo had some benefits after all?
“I’m going to hit them.”
“Don’t tell me. Tell yourself.”
She looked back in the mirror. “I’m going to hit them.”
“Brilliant. Off you go and sing.”
Once she’d disappeared—and I listened carefully for her footsteps to make sure she truly had gone downstairs—I sighed and fell backwards onto the bed. The springs squeaked beneath my weight.
“Nice save,” Rune whispered.
“You don’t need to whisper anymore. She’s gone.” But I still talked bloody quietly. “Do therapists seriously say that shit?”
“Mine doesn’t. She just asks loads of questions.”
“Does it help?”
“I’ve only had one session so far, and it was horribly uncomfortable, but I slept better last night, so I suppose it did.”
“That’s good. Really. I’m glad you’re getting help. What happened to you… You never should have had to…”
“If I hadn’t done what I did, Beth and I would both be dead. I guess… I guess when the chips are down, we both do whatever’s necessary, don’t we?” I heard Rune swallow, and there was a long pause before she came back, this time sounding overly cheerful. “Which means you have to visualise your goal for the day. Go on, talk to the mirror.”
I heard crunching, and I suspected Rune was scoffing carrot sticks for breakfast. She ate a lot of them, which was
probably how she managed to stay rail-thin, although stress undoubtedly helped with that too. She’d been through so much lately.
“Mirror, mirror on the wall…” Despite the situation, I struggled to take Rune’s order seriously. “I can’t.”
“No, you have to do it.”
“Fine. I’m going to not embarrass myself in maths, drama, or physics, and then I’m gonna run a good time for the four-hundred metres in track practice later.”
But not too good, because like Asher, I definitely didn’t want to make it onto the athletics team.
A week had passed since my arrival at Shadow Falls, and I was beginning to settle. Get into a routine. Wake up, blag my way through lessons I barely understood, then snoop around in the evenings. Rune had focused her late-night tutoring sessions on chemistry seeing as that was where I struggled the most. And when I stopped worrying about paintings twenty-four seven, when I compartmentalised and listened to the teachers, I found I even learned something.
I began to feel as if I belonged at Shadow Falls, just a tiny bit.
Vanessa was waiting for me outside the chemistry lab on Thursday, textbooks in hand, but before I got to her, one of the teachers stopped to say a few words.
“Congratulations, Vanessa. A well-deserved prize.”
“What did you win?” I asked her once we got inside.
“Remember that singing audition? I got selected.”
“Really? That’s great! See? Visualisation totally works.”
If the whole investigation/assassination thing didn’t pan out, maybe I could become a life coach?
“I suppose. But I didn’t think for a minute that I’d actually get picked. I just didn’t want to screw up the song.”
“You smashed it, and now you get a free trip to Florida. Win-win.”
“Win-lose.”
“What am I missing?”
Vanessa slumped onto her stool. “Deandra was meant to get the place. She’s got an amazing voice, and she always goes to the contests.”
“You beat her fair and square.”
“Yes, but…” Vanessa lowered her voice as the Britneys walked in, and I didn’t miss the way Deandra narrowed her eyes. “But now I’ll have to pay for that. She hates losing.”
“She can’t expect to come first in everything. That’s not how life works.”
Vanessa just shrugged. “You don’t know Deandra.”
No, I didn’t, but perhaps I should get to know her. What had Emmy said? Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer.
Hmm…
Asher strolled over to the bench in front of us three seconds before Dr. Merritt arrived. How did he fit in with that philosophy? I wouldn’t have described Asher Martinez as a friend, but nor was he an enemy. He belonged in some hitherto unknown third category, one that fucked with my brain and sent sparks shooting to all the wrong places. A frenemesis.
“Hey, Chem,” he said. “Vanessa.”
“Are you gonna do any work today?” I asked.
“Why break the habit of a lifetime?”
“Because we’re meant to be a team here? What are you bringing to the party?”
“My sparkling personality and killer looks.”
“Killer looks? You mean like Jason Voorhees?”
“You wound me, Chem Girl.”
“And humility. You forgot to mention humility.”
The teacher cleared his throat, and Asher turned around. My gaze dropped. He brought a nice ass. But I wasn’t going to mention that, not in a million years.
“What happened?”
Vanessa limped towards me between two football players—American football players, all shoulder pads and tight trousers—and I ran out of New Hall to meet them on the path.
“She tripped,” one of them said.
“Over what?” I asked as the two beefcakes deposited Vanessa into my arms.
“Over Deandra’s hockey stick,” she muttered. “Told you she’d get me.”
What a bitch. “She did it on purpose?”
“We weren’t even near the ball. I was jogging, and she stuck the stick out for no reason.”
Vanessa was favouring the same ankle that she’d injured the other day, only this time it was swollen twice as big.
“Have you seen the nurse?”
“No, and I’m not going to.”
“But—”
“I can’t. If I see the nurse, she’ll make me go to the hospital for X-rays as a precaution. The school doesn’t want to take the risk of being sued, so they send you just in case. And I don’t have medical insurance.”
“But if you’re hurt…”
“I need ice, that’s all.”
“If it’s about the cost, I can pay.”
Might as well use that expense account for something, eh?
“Like I said before, I don’t need pity.”
Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Mind you, I’d been guilty of the same thing. When I’d bolloxed my ankle doing parkour in London, the lads I ran with had offered to have a whip-round so I could take a couple of days off work, but I figured it was my own stupid fault I’d fallen off the wall, and pride meant I’d hobbled into the club with an elastic band around my shoe because the strap wouldn’t do up.
“Fine, go sit down, and I’ll get the ice.”
And I’d also think up a nice surprise for Deandra. Nobody hurt my roommate and got away with it.
Not only did I find an ice pack, but I also wheedled and cajoled and got Ryder to drive over with a care package and meet me at the bottom of the school driveway.
“Emmy’s gonna kick my ass,” he complained.
“It’s for medicinal purposes.”
“The Advil’s for medicinal purposes. The vodka’s for getting drunk.”
“I’m a student. It’s practically mandatory for us to bend the rules.”
“Just don’t get caught.”
I didn’t intend to.
Vanessa’s eyes bugged out when I pulled the bottle out of the book bag Ryder had brought it in. What? Hadn’t she ever seen alcohol before?
“You’re not supposed to have that,” she hissed.
“I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“But…” She trailed off. But nothing.
I grabbed two tumblers from the shelf near my desk, tipped our toothbrushes out, then poured a generous measure for Vanessa and a smaller shot for me. I had work to do first thing in the morning, and a hangover would only make things uncomfortable. Trying to pick a lock with blurred vision wasn’t the easiest thing in the world.
“Bottoms up.”
“I can’t drink that.”
“Why not? You need something to wash down your painkillers.”
“Are you crazy?”
“You’ll feel better. Trust me. Do you need a mixer? I’m sure there’s a carton of orange juice downstairs.”
“Where did you get the vodka?”
“From a friend. Shh.”
“I guess… I guess maybe I could just have a small sip.”
An hour later, Vanessa lay on the bed giggling, her arms and legs spread out like a starfish. Water dripped onto the floor from the melting ice. The good news was that the swelling didn’t look any worse, but the bad news was that her eyes were staring in two different directions. I had a sneaking suspicion she didn’t drink very often.
“Deandra’s such a bitch. I mean, all the Britneys are bitches…” She dissolved into laughter again. “I can’t believe you call them Britneys, but you’re sooooo right.”
“I’m guessing theirs is the clique I want to avoid?”
“One of them. There’s a worse one, but they live in Lower Hall and they mostly hang out with the football team. You should be safe. Anyhooos, out of the Britneys, Deandra’s the worst. Always mean, and nasty, and trying to impress the others… She’s basically my mom but younger.”
“You don’t get on with your mother?”
“Not even a little bit. She ruined my life. One day, ever
ything seemed fine, and the next day, she left my dad and moved in with her boyfriend. Her boyfriend. She’d been seeing him secretly for a year, a freaking year, and she just expected me to be fine with it.”
“She wanted you to move in with them?”
“Yeah, and I didn’t have a choice. Because the divorce got nasty and there was a paternity test, and it turned out my dad wasn’t even my dad.”
“Wow. I’m sorry.”
“So was my mom. The boyfriend dumped her after eight months, and she started a new relationship with alcohol instead.” Vanessa stared at the vodka bottle. “I don’t even know why I’m drinking this. Oh my gosh, I’m turning into her.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
Even so, I pushed the bottle to the other side of the desk, out of Vanessa’s reach.
“I guess at least I haven’t hit on Mr. Rosenberg yet.”
I almost choked on my water. “Your mother did that? She really hit on Ezra Rosenberg?”
“Not Ezra. Saul.”
“What did he do?”
“Looked kind of shocked as he peeled her hand off his arm, then called Mrs. Hannigan over to help. I mean, it was obvious Mom had been drinking. She reeked of wine. Now I don’t tell her about any school events, and she stays in California. It’s for the best.”
“Do you go home for the holidays?”
“Not if I can help it. She’s shacked up with some dot-com tech geek who’s barely out of college. She keeps saying he’s going to be the next big thing. The guy can’t even wear matching socks.”
“I knew a guy who wore odd socks once. He said it was lucky.”
But he’d also died in a drive-by when a drug deal went wrong, so maybe not.
“He also wears the socks with sandals.”
“Yeuch. That’s unforgivable.”
“Exactly. But the Rosenbergs are good about letting me stay here. The kitchen’s always open because the staff work over the break periods. I swim, I read, I catch up on studying. At least my grades are good.”
If I’d really been the girl I claimed to be, I could have invited Vanessa to Casa Milburn for Thanksgiving. But fingers crossed, I’d be long gone by that time. This was perhaps the hardest part of the job. Gaining people’s trust, only to have to break it later on.
“Are you planning to go to college?”